An Adventure in India

All the world knows that Pythagoras, while he resided in India, attended
the school of the Gymnosophists, and learned the language of beasts and
plants.[1] One day, while he was walking in a meadow near the seashore,
he heard these words:

"How unfortunate that I was born an herb! I scarcely attain two inches
in height, when a voracious monster, an horrid animal, tramples me under
his large feet; his jaws are armed with rows of sharp scythes, by which
he cuts, then grinds, and then swallows me. Men call this monster a
sheep. I do not suppose there is in the whole creation a more detestable
creature."

Pythagoras proceeded a little way and found an oyster yawning on a small
rock. He had not yet adopted that admirable law, by which we are
enjoined not to eat those animals which have a resemblance to us.[2] He
had scarcely taken up the oyster to swallow it, when it spoke these
affecting words:

"O, Nature, how happy is the herb, which is, as I am, thy work! though
it be cut down, it is regenerated and immortal; and we, poor oysters, in
vain are defended by a double cuirass: villains eat us by dozens at
their breakfast, and all is over with us forever. What an horrible fate
is that of an oyster, and how barbarous are men!"

Pythagoras shuddered; he felt the enormity of the crime he had nearly
committed; he begged pardon of the oyster with tears in his eyes, and
replaced it very carefully on the rock.

As he was returning to the city, profoundly meditating on this
adventure, he saw spiders devouring flies; swallows eating spiders, and
sparrow-hawks eating swallows. "None of these," said he, "are
philosophers."

On his entrance, Pythagoras was stunned, bruised, and thrown down by a
lot of tatterdemalions, who were running and crying: "Well done, he
fully deserved it." "Who? What?" said Pythagoras, as he was getting up.
The people continued running and crying: "O how delightful it will be to
see them boiled!"

Pythagoras supposed they meant lentiles, or some other vegetables: but
he was in an error; they meant two poor Indians. "Oh!" said Pythagoras,
"these Indians, without doubt, are two great philosophers weary of their
lives, they are desirous of regenerating under other forms; it affords
pleasure to a man to change his place of residence, though he may be but
indifferently lodged: there is no disputing on taste."[3]

He proceeded with the mob to the public square, where he perceived a
lighted pile of wood, and a bench opposite to it, which was called a
tribunal. On this bench judges were seated, each of whom had a cow's
tail in his hand, and a cap on his head, with ears resembling those of
the animal which bore Silenus when he came into that country with
Bacchus, after having crossed the Erytrean sea without wetting a foot,
and stopping the sun and moon; as it is recorded with great fidelity in
the Orphicks.

Among these judges there was an honest man with whom Pythagoras was
acquainted. The Indian sage explained to the sage of Samos the nature of
that festival to be given to the people of India.

"These two Indians," said he, "have not the least desire to be committed
to the flames. My grave brethren have adjudged them to be burnt; one for
saying, that the substance of Xaca is not that of Brahma; and the other
for supposing, that the approbation of the Supreme Being was to be
obtained at the point of death without holding a cow by the tail;
'Because,' said he, 'we may be virtuous at all times, and we cannot
always have a cow to lay hold of just when we may have occasion.' The
good women of the city were greatly terrified at two such heretical
opinions; they would not allow the judges a moment's peace until they
had ordered the execution of those unfortunate men."

Pythagoras was convinced that from the herb up to man, there were many
causes of chagrin. However, he obliged the judges and even the devotees
to listen to reason, which happened only at that time.

He went afterwards and preached toleration at Crotona; but a bigot set
fire to his house, and he was burnt—the man who had delivered the two
Hindoos from the flames? Let those save themselves who can![4]

[1] Perhaps it would be impossible at the present day to
convince scientists that oysters formerly conversed intelligibly with
mankind and protested eloquently against human injustice; but all men
are not scientists, and there are many worthy people who still have
implicit faith in ancient Semitic records—who firmly believe in
miracles and prodigies—and who would consider it rank heresy to doubt
that the serpent, though now as mute as an oyster, formerly held a very
animated conversation, in the original Edenic language, with the
inexperienced and confiding female who then graced with her charming
presence the bowers of Paradise; and this sacred narrative of the
"maiden and the reptile" is quite as repugnant to modern science as the
sentimental fish story of "Pythagoras and the oyster".

As a matter of fact, the doctrine of the metempsichosis, as taught by
the Samian sage, was formerly held in great repute by the most civilized
nations of antiquity, and it is surely as easy to credit the assertion
of our author, that the ancient Gymnosophists "had learned the language
of beasts and plants" as to believe the unquestioned and orthodox
statement that a certain quadruped, (Asinus vulgaris,) —whose
romantic history is recorded in the twenty-second chapter of
Numbers,—was once upon a time able to converse in very good Hebrew with
Monsieur Balaam, an ancient prophet of great merit and renown.—E.

[2] The resemblance of oysters to mankind, here implied, can
only be apparent to the "eye of faith," and lovers of these delicious
bivalves will fail to recognize the family likeness.—E.

[3] Pythagoras was born at Samos, about 590 years before the
Christian era. He received an education well calculated to enlighten his
mind and invigorate his body. He studied poetry, music, eloquence and
astronomy, and became so proficient in gymnastic exercises, that in his
eighteenth year he won the prize for wrestling at the Olympic games. He
then visited Egypt and Chaldea, and gaining the confidence of the
priests, learned from them the artful policy by which they governed the
people. On his return to Samos he was saluted by the name of Sophist,
or wise man, but he declined the name, and was satisfied with that of
philosopher, or the friend of wisdom. He ultimately fixed his
residence in Magna Gręcia, in the town of Crotona, where he founded the
school called the Italian.

This school became very prosperous, and hundreds of pupils received the
secret instructions of Pythagoras, who taught by the use of ciphers or
numbers, and hieroglyphic writings. His pupils were thus enabled to
correspond together in unknown characters; and, by the signs and words
employed, they could discover among strangers those who had been
educated in the Pythagorean school. All the pupils of the philosopher
greatly reverenced their teacher, and deemed it a crime to dispute his
word. One of their expressions "thus saith the Master," has been
adopted by modern sects.

The Samian sage taught the doctrine of the metempsichosis, or the
transmigration of the soul into different bodies, which he had probably
learned from the Brahmins; who believed that, in these various
peregrinations, the soul or thinking principle was purged from all evil,
and was ultimately absorbed into the Divine substance from which it was
supposed to have emanated.

Godfrey Higgins in the Anacalypsis cites authorities to prove that the
doctrine of the metempsichosis was held by "many of the early fathers of
the Christians, which they defended on several texts of the New
Testament. It was held by Origin, Calcidius, Synesius, and by the
Simonians, Basilidians, Valentiniens, Marcionites, and the Gnostics in
general. It was also held by the Pharisees among the Jews, and by the
most learned of the Greeks, and by many Chinese, Hindoos and Indians.

"When all the circumstances relating to Pythagoras and to his doctrines,
both in moral and natural philosophy, are considered," continues
Higgins, "nothing can be more striking than the exact conformity of the
latter to the received opinions of the moderns, and of the former to the
moral doctrines of Jesus Christ."

"The pupils of Pythagoras," says Eschenburg, Manual of Classical
Literature, "soon amounted to 600, dwelt in one public building, and
held their property in common. Under philosophy, the Italic school
included every object of human knowledge. But Pythagoras considered
music and astronomy of special value. He is supposed to have had some
very correct views of astronomy, agreeing with the true Copernican
system. The beautiful fancy of the music of the spheres is attributed to
him. The planets striking on the ether, through which they pass, must
produce a sound; this must vary according to their different magnitudes,
velocities, and relative distances; these differences were all adjusted
with perfect regularity and exact proportions, so that the movements of
the bodies produced the richest tones of harmony; not heard, however, by
mortal ears."

Pythagoras taught, and his followers maintained, the absolute equality
of property, "all their worldly possessions being brought into a common
store". The early Christians had also "all things in common," and the
doctrines of Jesus and Pythagoras have many points of resemblance. Both
were reformers, both sought to benefit the poor and the oppressed, both
taught and practised the doctrines now known as Communism, and both, for
their love to the human race, suffered a cruel martyrdom from an
orthodox and vindictive priesthood.

In obedience to an oracle, the Romans, long after the death of
Pythagoras, erected a statue to his memory as the wisest of
mankind.—E.

[4] Godfrey Higgins in the Anacalypsis draws aside the veil
of Isis, and explains in a satisfactory manner the reason why
Pythagoras, like Socrates and Jesus, was condemned to death by the
established priesthood. Each of these great reformers had been initiated
into the sacred mysteries, and each taught his followers by secret
symbols or parables that contained a hidden meaning; so "that seeing the
uninitiated might see and not perceive, and hearing might hear and not
understand." The reason that Jesus gave for following this method was
"because it is given unto you (i.e. the initiated) to know the
mysteries of the kingdom of heaven, but to them (i.e. the people) it
is not given." (Matt. XIII: II.) The mass of mankind, being excluded
from this secret knowledge, were kept in a state of debasement as
compared with the favored few who were acquainted with the jealously
guarded secrets of the Cabala; and the earnest desire of these great
reformers—of these noble men who cheerfully gave their lives to benefit
their race—was, without divulging the secrets of their initiation, to
teach mankind to partake of the forbidden fruit of the tree of
knowledge, and to learn "that a virtuous life would secure eternal
happiness." Such philanthropic doctrines were denounced as wicked and
heretical by the orthodox priesthood, who instinctively oppose human
progress, and who, like the silversmith of Ephesus, described by St.
Paul, felt that "this our craft is in danger" should the people become
enlightened. They therefore, excited a popular clamor, and aroused the
worst passions and prejudices of their followers; who, inspired with
fanatic zeal, cruelly and wickedly burned Pythagoras of Crotona,
poisoned Socrates of Athens, and crucified Jesus of Nazareth.—E.